


Clean-up Crew

by Shulik



Series: The Future that Stands. [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Thir13en Ghosts (2001)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 02:14:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shulik/pseuds/Shulik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ocularis Infernum had been broken, destroyed- an empty scuplture left smoking in the midst of a ravaged home. Or was it? The 'Eye of Hell' had always been there, Cyrus's invention had only tried to <i>open</i> it. Left standing, on its own, rotten remains of its carcass leaking evil into the world- it was sure to attract attention.</p><p>And it did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean-up Crew

The house was an architectural marvel, beautiful even with the light layer of _evilness_ permeating the air.

Dawn followed the slayer squad inside, Willow casting at the front of the procession, illuminating the intricate spellwork done on the glass floors and walls. Every word she’d utter made the spells glow blue, activating the protective side of them and disarming the traps.

The lightweight helmet, courtesy of Andrew and the rest of the R&D department made it easy to take in three hundred and sixty degrees of vision without any of the nausea and dizziness normally involved in such a feat. A green button allowed the visor to switch over to what Faith had dubbed as the ‘magic cam’, a device that showed any ghosts or paranormal phenomena present.

They reached the library, the broken rings of the Ocularis Infernum laying near a gaping hole in the floor. Books lay haphazardly around the room, most of them destroyed in what Dawn imagined to have been one hell of a magical storm. The really nerdy side of her, the one that took secret pleasure in holing up within the Council's libraries with only a thermos of coffee for company, that part of her wanted to wail and weep at such wanton destruction. Fortunately, Dawn had long ago surpassed the age when she allowed others to see her tantrums.

She would save them for _later_.

Willow clucked as she crouched down, brushing the ground with leather-gloved hand, “Cyrus, Cyrus- you’ve been a very bad boy.”

Faith stood beside the kneeling witch, her first line of defense once Willow would start cleaning up the dark magic practically flooding the area from the broken Eye of Hell. “You knew this guy?”

Willow straightened up and she brushed the long olive skirt she was wearing, slowly inspecting the broken device as she told the others “I met him once." She began walking around the periphery of the hole, studying the destroyed metal rings with clinical scrutiny, every so often glancing back at the others as she talked. "At Rack’s. Cyrus was jacking up on power even then. Should have known at the time, but I was a little too strung out to care.”

Everyone present knew Willow’s history, the magic addiction, the rocky path to redemption.

Faith nodded and shouldered her weapon, “how long till we can get out of here? I’m getting a wig just breathing the air coming out of the hole.”

“I’m going to start cleaning up right now,” the witch told her. Immediately Vi joined Faith’s side, the two slayers assumed alert positions as they stretched their senses for any threat.

The oldest slayer in the room motioned to Dawn, “D? Come here a sec?”

Dawn stood next to her, leaning a bit to Faith’s height she listened.

“I’m getting a ghost in the next room, nothing evil- just super vigilant,” Faith told her.

Dawn nodded in understanding.

The slayer narrowed her gaze, “you got your weapons?”

Dawn nodded and opened her jacket. The arsenal stashed on her body would have given any law enforcement types a heart attack had she not been carrying permits for every piece of weaponry on her. Two mystical short swords behind her back. Stakes on thigh holsters, a gun that Andrew had personally developed to dissolve plasma, a dagger sheathed in each of her long boots and two Glocks strapped into her custom-made shoulder holsters.

She had a little more weaponry than a slayer on account of not having any supernatural abilities besides her amazing capacity to get kidnapped every Tuesday, which wasn't so much as skill as it was an innate talent she had been created with.

Faith grinned “good girl. Go get our boy.”

Dawn saluted her and turned away. Rona followed her at a discreet distance.

The ghosts were rumored to have passed on, but the Ocularis Infernum was still drawing evil energy like a miniature, stylishly man-made Hellmouth. Hence their current expedition to close it.

Plus, they had a pick-up to do.

They moved down the rooms when Rona stiffened suddenly and Dawn whipped out both of her guns. She had long ago learned to listen to the slayers by her side, their supernatural warning system was really above and beyond anything man could come up with.

A young, blonde guy was standing in the hallway next to the library. He was wearing a ridiculous outfit, a paisley print red shirt with a black blazer over a pair of dark jeans. The shirt's lapels were half the size of his face. His face that had a giant, bleeding _wound_ on the side of it.

He looked kind of pissed, staring at her with confusion as he tried to make sense of who she was and what her intentions were towards the house.

Dawn kept the plasma gun pointed on him, trying to defuse the situation as she smiled.She used the special smile of hers, the one that made her cheeks glow and her eyes sparkle- slowly grinning as she realized that the guy's eyes were tracking her lips.

 _Eat your heart out, Buffy_ , Dawn thought to herself a trifle smugly, she could do the hot badass chick thing too!

From behind her, Dawn could hear Rona's snort and a light whisper of- "Check out the dead guy macking on you."

The guy grinned back at her and she realized just how hot he was. With the bloody wound at all.She wondered what he looked like in life, flushing at the thought of just how _tall_ he was.

“Dennis Rafkin?” she asked him, trying to clear her mind of all _inappropriate_ thoughts. Jesus, had it been that long that she was now hitting on a dead man?.

The guy stiffened considerably and answered, hostility and suspicion practically seeping out of him. Dawn kinda wished that he was still smiling. He had a _really_ nice smile.

“Who’s asking?”

Dawn lowered her weapon and smiled widely at the strongest psychic and empath in the Western Hemisphere. He still hadn’t passed on to the afterlife and that meant that Willow would have a chance at bringing him back. ' _And he's cute too!_ ' Dawn's inner twelve year old squealed with delight, jumping up and down in the back of her mind.

Oh god, she needed to get out more. Spending days cooped with nothing else but slayers and stodgy watchers for company was apparently making her just a _tad_ bit desperate.

“I’m Dawn Summers, head of Research for the International Watchers’ and Slayers’ Council,” she took out her ID and held it out to him. “Go ahead, _take it._ Ghosts can touch it, and you’ll be able to get a feel for whether I’m lying or not.”

Dennis looked at her for a few moments, gauging her intentions. He then sighed and shook his head, taking a few steps towards her, he quickly snatched the ID off her hand and stepped back.

A look of intense concentration combined with a blissful spaced out grin passed on his features. Willow's mojo was strong apparently.

He regretfully gave the ID back to her. “Say I believe you. What do you want from me?”

Dawn hid the little card back in her wallet and she smirked at him, eyeing the ghostly man with poorly concealed interest. “We want to offer you a job.”


End file.
